


Liminal

by childoflightning



Series: just keep stumbling forward (baby im waiting for you) [10]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Ableism, Autistic Logic | Logan Sanders, Brain Damage, Bullying, Chronic Illness, Coming of Age, Disabled Patton, Falling In Love, Family, Fluff, Gen, Growing Up, Hurt/Comfort, Logan is a Good Boyfriend, M/M, Memory Issues, Morality | Patton Sanders Has Feelings, Morality | Patton Sanders is a Good Friend, Morality | Patton Sanders-centric, Multi, Muslim Roman, Other, Patton has Chronic Pain, Speech Disorders, Tourette's Syndrome, Trans Morality | Patton Sanders, Virgil has PTSD, Virgil has a Service Dog, meningitis, mentions of Toxic Masculinity, saying i love you for the first time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-06 10:15:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20289790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/childoflightning/pseuds/childoflightning
Summary: Patton is no stranger to falling. He’s been doing it for longer than he’s been able to walk. As such, he considers himself to be an expert in all things fall-related. He just forgot that there was more than one definition for the word, “falling,” and how it relates to three significant figures in his life.-Or: Five times Patton has fallen in front of someone, and three times he’s fallen for someone.





	1. Quinary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> People have been wondering about Patton in this universe, so hopeful this provides some insight into him and his character.
> 
> **TW: Ableism, Memory Issues, Bullying, Severe Illness, Suggestions of Death, Tics.**  
In Depth TW in End Notes

**ONE**

“He can’t e- even t-t-t-talk right,” the girl mocks, mimicking the other classmate’s stutter.

Nir, the boy in question, just falls silent and ducks his head, a blush spreading fiercely across his cheeks. The rest of the kids gathered around just laugh harder.

“Hey!” a kid shouts, stepping forward through the crowd that has surrounded the victim and bully, “Leave… him alone!”

The kid stand firmly, looking straight ahead at the bully. Her pink Sketchers move as she shuffles to place herself between the bully and the target. At nine years old, the girl not yet known as Patton has already begun her crusade to protect anyone and everyone against harm.

“Oh look,” the bully, Rene sneers with a gleeful smile, “Eileen’s joining in!”

“Leave him… alone,” Eileen repeats, voice slow and spacey but firm and proud.

Rene just barks out a laugh and her sneer grows. The pure hatred in her voice is one that can only come from a young child who learned it from an adult. In Rene’s case, she learned it from her mother, not that anyone else knew or realized this at the time, including Rene herself.

“Look! Eileen’s trying to save Nir when she can’t talk either!”

The crowd laughs good naturally. Rene may be rude, but it’s not like they realized how awful she was truly being. Everyone had told Nir to speak properly, not just Rene. Kids didn’t just become mean, they learned it from the people around them. Generally, the adults. And it was the adults that had first stated that Nir’s speech patterns needed to be fixed.

“Stop… it. You’re being mean. It’s… not his fault… he-”

Rene fakes yawning as Eileen continues to slowly get out her words.

“We don’t have all day Eileen! Spit it out,” Rene jeers, “Eileen can’t read and write well and walks funny and she also can’t speak. Are you retarded or something?”

The crowd laughs more behind her.

Eileen puffs out her tiny chest.

“You shouldn’t… call people retarded,” she protests, “And I have… more trouble doing things that… are… easy for you because I had meningitis. Do you know what that is?”

Rene just stares, probably lost in where exactly this conversation was going. A simple teasing session had not included time for questions.

Eileen assumes her silence meant that she indeed did not know what meningitis was. And such an assumption was correct.

“Well… meningitis is a sickness. Basically you get really… really sick and have a horrible fever. And I got… so sick that the fever burned my brain… and hurt… my nerves. So the things that… are easy to you. Like talking… fast and reading and walking… I have to work a lot harder to do any of those things because I got really sick… as a baby. I almost died.”

The crowd went to teasing to silent as they stared at two facing off. Kids could be cruel, but kids also knew that certain lines were not to be crossed. And at this point, the scales were tipping to favor Eileen at the admission that she could have died.

“You shouldn’t be mean… to people who… are different. You don’t know why… And its mean. Okay?”

Rene stared a bit before looking around at the crowd who had fallen silent, asserting who she still had on her side. With a scowl, she ducked her head at the realization she had lost.

“Okay,” she hissed through gritted teeth, recognizing even at her young age that this battle would not be won.

Eileen nodded happily before cocking her head.

“Oh, and you should probably say sorry to Nir.”

Eileen didn’t think much of the confrontation in the last few days. In all honesty, she completely forgot about it. Whether she forgot due to either her poor memory- also a result of the meningitis- or because she was a busy kid who forgave easily was up for debate.

But, in all honesty, the why of why she forgot was really unimportant in the long run. The important part was that she forgot and was therefore not looking for any sort of retaliation. And as it is known, kids can be cruel.

The class was walking to the school library when the retaliation came. A retaliation that was as simple as a purple sparkly shoe attached to a foot, leg, and body, being thrown in front of her.

Eileen hit the ground with a _SLAM_ and a cry of pain.

Eileen was used to falling, as she had been doing it since she was very young, but each time the sudden loss of ground always surprised her. She went down hard, the sound of skin against stone echoing in the hall. Everyone froze and looked at her.

Eileen herself turned to inspected the damage. Two scraped knees, a scraped palm, and a nasty burn across her arm. She whimpered a bit at the stinging pain as the rest of the class stared.

And it was in this moment that Eileen looked up, trying not to cry, where she met eyes with Rene. Rene who didn’t have a look of shock like the other kids, but was instead sporting a different sort of surprise. Rene was also wearing a sparkly purple tennis shoe. The very shoe that had reached out to trip Eileen.

And when she met Rene’s eyes, she knew it wasn’t an accident.

Eileen gingerly got to her feet as little drops and trails of blood started to form on her cuts.

“Eileen, are you okay,” the teacher fussed, rushing forward to check on the student.

Eileen smoothed down her skirt, taking the time to compose herself. She took two deep breaths, fighting down the urge to cry at the pain. She was okay. It was okay.

“I’m okay. But I need... to go to... the nurse,” she requested, surprisingly calm. It was probably the shock. The injury may have been minor, but even the smallest of injuries can be a big deal. Especially to a third grader.

“Oh, yes of course,” the teacher fussed more, pulling out a pad of paper to write her a slip. And then…

“Can... Rene please take me?” Eileen asked.

The request itself wasn’t unusual. Students were generally required to have a buddy in the hallway. The only time kids didn’t have a buddy were for quick things- like getting water or using the restroom- or returning from dropping fellow students off at the nurse.

The unusual part was the name requested. Eileen had just requested her assailant to accompany her.

The teacher didn’t look up, but Rene shot the other girl a startled expression.

“Of course,” the teacher said again before handing Eileen the note and ushering both Rene and Eileen in the opposite direction the class was going.

The two girls left the class line, Eileen limping more than usual.

“Hey Rene,” Eileen commented, once their class was far behind them, “Can you please... not... do that again? It hurt.”

Rene kept her head down and said nothing.

Eileen just shrugged. She had assumed the best she would get would be a silence, but felt like the request was at least worth a shot.

They had not quite reached the nurses office when Rene blurted out, “I’m so sorry Eileen! I didn’t mean to- Well I mean I did! But I didn’t think you’d actually get hurt. I’m so so sorry,” the girl exclaimed, sitting on the verge of tears.

Eileen turned to smile at Rene.

“It’s… okay,” Eileen promised, “Just please don’t do it… again.”

“I won't,” Rene swore, “And I won’t be mean to you or Nir or anyone ever again! I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to actually hurt you!”

“Then why’d you do it?” Eileen questioned.

Her question wasn’t a question out of malice or guilt, but pure curiosity.

“I…” Rene stumbled over her own words for once, “I don’t know,” she admitted.

The truth- an adult had most likely made comments about those with disabilities or speech impairments. Those comments were most likely unkind to said people. And as easy as that, Rene had learned that those comments, behaviors, and actions were therefore acceptable.

It had taken Eileen tripping and bleeding bright drops of red blood for Rene to realize that her actions were very much not acceptable.

“It’s okay,” Eileen said once again, “You’re not going to do it again, and that’s the important part.”

After that they both fell silent as they entered the nurses office.

Eileen’s wounds were patched up and cleaned up relatively quickly. She winced a bit when scrapes were cleaned out, but Rene offered her hand in support. Eileen took it with a grateful smile, before wincing and squeezing it softly.

* * *

**TWO**

Eileen woke with a gasp and a near shriek. She hunched up and rolled into a tight ball, pulling her legs close to her chest.

They had just moved to a new house. The new house meant that Eileen now got her own room and didn’t have to share with Blythe. Which was great. Except that without Blythe, Eileen was absolutely certain there was a monster under her bed.

In their old house, she and Blythe had shared a bunk bed and the bottom bunk had been placed exactly on the floor. This meant that there hadn’t been any room for any nasty monsters. But now, she didn’t have a bunk bed. Which meant that there was about a foot of space under her bed, perfect for monsters to fit into.

Eileen gulped and tried not to cry. If she started crying maybe the monsters would come eat her. She wanted her moms.

But to get to her moms that would mean that she would have to get to the door. The door that was on the other side of the room. The door she could only get to by walking straight past the monsters.

Maybe she should just go back to bed?

But if she went back to bed then the monsters could just get her while she slept.

No, it was better to make a run for it and have her moms scare the monsters away then lie in wait to be eaten.

With that decision she slowly slid out from under her covers. In her mind, she made a mental track of the closest path to the door.

Wait- when did she get out from under the covers?

Just a second ago she was lying under the covers, contemplating whether to get out of bed and get her moms or to just stay put. But she had just been thinking about it. When did she actually act on those thoughts and get out from under her covers?

Her brain must of slipped, she realized after a second of fumbling confusion. It did that sometimes. She would be doing something and just forget and not know what was going on. Her moms told her that when that happened it was best to just start at the beginning with what she knew and go from there.

Okay, so she was out from under the covers. Which meant she had decided to go get her moms. Which really, that was probably the smartest choice. If she just went back to bed, the monsters could attack her while she was sleeping. If she got her mothers, they could scare off the monster and she would be safe for the rest of the night.

With that thought, she started looking for the fastest way to the door. She counted down from five in her head before leaping out of the bed and racing for the entrance to her room. She opened the door quickly and slammed it with a bang behind her, hopefully avoiding all chances of being attacked.

No monsters came after her, so she assumed it was safe.

She walked as quietly as possible to her mothers’ room.

When she arrived she cracked the door open, wincing at the loud noise it made. She walked slowly at first, before seeing the sleeping lumps and racing towards them.

“Moms… moms, moms,” she said, voice starting as a whisper and growing steadily louder.

One of the sleeping figures jerked upright quickly as the other just lethargically blinked her eyes open.

“What is it sweetie?” the first said, “Is everything alright? Are you hurt?”

“No Mama, I’m… okay,” she promised, then hesitated, “But there’s… a monster under… under my bed, will one… of you come scare it away?”

“I got it Bertha,” the second woman said. She stretched her arms and climbed out of bed. “Come with me Eileen, let’s go get the monster.”

“Okay! Thanks Mama,” Eileen agreed easily, latching her hand into her mothers.

The two left the room and creeped back down the hall to the child’s room. Eileen’s mom picked him up when the reached the door. She opened it one handed, Eileen settled on her hip, and stepped inside.

“Oh,” she said immediately, “I see exactly what you mean. There’s definitely a monster here,” her mother said.

Eileen let out a squeak and dove her head into her mother’s neck.

“Hey, it’s okay,” the child’s mother soothed, “Nothing to be scared of. Monsters under the bed are a good thing.”

“What?” Eileen asked.

“Haven’t you heard,” the woman whispered, “Monsters under the bed are there to protect all the little kids sleeping in them.”

“They… do?” Eileen asked, eyes growing wider by a second.

“Yup,” her mom said, stepping further into the room. She set Eileen down on her bed, “Do you want me to tell you about them.”

“Yes, yes please… Mommy,” Eileen begged, jumping up and down a little bit on her bed.

“Okay,” her mother agreed easily, “But if so, let’s get under the covers, that’s a good girl.”

Eileen shuffled under her covers and stared up at her mom. Her mother settled at the foot of her bed, turning to face her child and gentle stroke her legs.

“A long long time ago, monsters under the bed were a very bad thing,” she started, “They would terrorize young children and come after their toes. But this all changed when the young princess Alaziu befriended her monster. See, princess Alaziu had just moved to a new kingdom. And the princess hadn’t wanted to move. But outside, an enemy kingdom was slowly approaching, and so they had to move to stay safe from the enemies. But the enemy kingdom knew that they had moved and they sent out a soldier to kidnap the princess in hopes that the queens would sacrifice their own queendom to the rival kingdom to get their daughter back.”

Eileen gasped at the admittance as if this was an epic fairy tale, and not just a story her mother was coming up with on the spot. A child’s flexible mind.

“Yes, I know. It was very dramatic and very scary. But a soldier was sent to take the princess. And he crawled up the side of the castle and into her room. And he was about to grab her when something grabbed his ankle firmly and tugged. The prince went tumbling to the floor with a clatter, awakening the young princess who jumped up and called for the guards. They came rushing in and dragged away the soldier.

“One guard then asked her how she had known the soldier was there. And the princess knew. Because before the soldiers had charged in, she saw the clawed paw wrapped around the soldier’s ankle and great yellow eyes blinking from below her bed. But do you know what she said to the guards?”

“What Mama, what?”

A smile stretched across the woman's face and she smoothed down the hair on her daughter’s head.

“She told the guards that the soldier had tripped. And they accepted her story and left.

“Right when they closed the door, she peeked under the bed. ‘Hello Monster?’ she called, ‘Are you down there? I wanted to say thank you for saving me from the soldier.’ But the monster didn’t say anything in return. ‘Monster?’ she called again. She heard a shuffling noise beneath her until finally a voice replied. ‘You aren’t afraid of me?’ the monster asked. ‘Of course not,’ the princess replied, ‘you saved me, why would I be afraid of you?’ ‘Everyone is,’ the monster replied. And the princess just said, ‘Well I’m not.’

“And from that moment on, the princess and the monster started talking and became each others best friends. And princess Alaziu learned that monsters under the bed weren’t scary at all, they were just there to help protect kids like her and you.”

At her final word, she dropped her finger to tap Eileen’s nose.

Eileen let out a tired giggle and yawn.

“Mom?” her daughter whispered, “I liked-” she broke off her sentence to yawn loudly, “I liked that story. And I… think I… like my monster too.”

“I’m glad sunshine,” her mother whispered back, even though her daughter had already fallen fast asleep.

* * *

**THREE**

_SMACK_.

Patton hits the ground as his knees buckle beneath him. He groans a bit at the impact and twists to sit.

His hands and knees are both a bit scrapped, surprisingly not that bad, and his wrist hurts a bit at the jarring impact when he caught his fall.

No one pays him much notice, the crowd of high schoolers just parting around him like he's Moses and they’re the Red Sea. A few nicer students shoot him looks of sympathy before scuttling onward.

Patton just groans again and scoots out of the middle of the hallway towards the wall. He places his hand against the brick, pressing firmly against it as he stands. He’s a few feet off the ground when his knees buckle again and he falls flat on his ass with a yelp.

He sighs in frustration and tries again.

His knees buckle once more and this time a flaring pain spreads through his legs and spine, settling harshly in his hips.

Patton almost vomits at the sudden sharp pain.

He inhales deeply and closes his eyes tightly as he steadies himself.

The pain doesn’t go away, but he allows himself to sit in it, get used to it. He might not hurt less, but he can’t get used to it. He can manage it.

It’s the second time, not counting his retries, that he’s fallen today. It’s a good day. And it’s not quite noon.

The hall starts to empty as the last bell rings.

And it’s at this moment that Patton realizes that he can’t get up.

He’s tried it. Twice in fact. And now with the addition of the aching pain throughout his body, there’s no way he’s trying it again. He’s well and truly stuck.

With a sigh, he adjusts his position, wincing as he moves his legs in front of him and turning so his back is against the wall. He leans his head back against the brick in defeat and tears prickle his eyes.

It’s not the first- nor the last- time he's fallen at school. But he’s never been in a position where he can’t get up.

He’s stuck, Patton realizes. There’s no one in the hall to help him. And even if there were someone to help him, it would also mean that Patton would have to swallow his pride and request help. And, if he could do it, there’s still the problem that Patton can’t walk like this. There’s no way his legs are supporting him right now.

(Maybe he if he had a mobility aid) his brain taunts him traitorously, reminding him of the conversation he had had with his mothers just early that week.

Patton had been falling more. And yes, falling was par for the course with him. But it had been a lot more, not just a few bad days. And Patton wasn’t the only one who had noticed it.

His moms had brought it up after dinner one night, during Patton’s night to do the dishes. They had casually mentioned that if it was something he wanted or needed that they could get it for him. That it could help. Something as simple as a cane could take just a bit of pressure off his legs, helping his stamina. That a cane could provide a third point on the ground, therefore helping his balance. A cane could provide an added boost of support

Patton had said a quiet, ‘no thank you,’ before finishing the dishes and racing out of the room. Or racing as fast as his traitorous body would let him.

And now, here he was, stranded in a hallway at his high school, unable to get off the ground. A lump grew in his throat. He knew a cane would be good for him. He knew that. And yet, he was completely and utterly opposed to it.

He wiped a few tears away.

And so Patton just sat there against the wall, waiting until the pain either faded enough or his knees stopped giving way. And eventually, once he was able to, he would stand and stumble through the rest of his day.

“Eile- Patton,” his mother greeted as Patton staggered into the house, “How was school?”

“Fine,” he said roughly, brushing past both his mothers and his older sister, Blythe, heading straight for his room.

As such, he missed the looks all of them shot each other as well as Blythe getting up to follow him.

Patton slammed the door to his room behind him and made a beeline for his bed, flopping onto it immediately.

A knock came just seconds after.

“Hey, uh, Pat? Can- _ACK_\- Can I come in?” a gentle voice asked.

Patton sighed and turned to groan into his pillow. Great, just what he needed, his sister coming to either bug him or give him a pep talk. Both were unwanted.

“Well?” Blythe asked from the other side.

“Fine,” he grumbled.

Blythe quickly twisted the door open and entered. She looked around the room, spotting him quickly on his bed. She then took a seat at his desk. Blythe blinked rapidly a few times before settling her gaze on him.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hi.”

“Are you wearing your binder? Because-” she cut herself off as she knocked her head back twice, “If you’ve been wearing it since this morning it’s been eight hours and you need to take- _ACK_\- take it off,” she instructed.

Patton groaned, “When did you become an expert about binding?”

She just shrugged and gave him a look before hitting herself on the chest.

He sighed but shucked off his hoodie and shirt before standing to get a looser shirt from his closet. He stumbled as one of his legs buckled, catching himself against his bedpost before he could fall again. He wiggled out of his binder before throwing on a looser, comfier, oversized shirt. He crossed his arms firmly over his chest, even though he had nothing to hide, Blythe had seen him completely naked billions of times, foregoing a bra or binder was nothing. He then settled for flopping back onto his bed.

“So what’s up?” she asked him.

“What do you mean?” Patton brushed off.

She raised an eyebrow at him, the expression only disrupted when she knocked her head back.

Patton inhaled deeply and turned to his back, bemoaning his misfortune of actually getting a sister who cared about him.

“I fell down today,” he admitted, ignoring the loud, “_ACK_,” she screeched out in the middle of his sentence.

“Okay?” Patton saw her say at his peripheral.

“And I couldn’t get back up, my legs keep buckling.”

“_ACK_\- Right?”

“I think I need to get a cane,” he admitted, more to himself than anyone else.

She didn’t say anything for a moment. She thumped her chest twice with her palm and stood. She walked over to Patton’s desk and grabbed his computer.

“Hey!” he protested, “Don’t touch my stuff!”

She scoffed, “What, you looking at porn?”

“No!” he protested, “But it’s mine. Actually, maybe I _was_ looking at porn. Then would you put it down?”

She shrugged, “I wouldn’t care if it was- _ACK_\- was porn,” she remarked, her grin light and teasing.

Patton just sighed and admitted defeat at losing his computer. Blythe just paused between typing and scrolling through whatever.

“What are you looking up?” he asked.

“How to buy a cane,” she said, “If you’re going to get one, you want like a proper one that’s gonna support- _ACK_\- you and shit, not like a prop or something. Want-” she paused, head shaking out once, then twice, then a third time, “Want-” She shook her head again, “Want to make sure we’re buying the right thing.”

“What!” Patton explained, leaping up to a sitting position. His spine protested the sharp movement and he let out an almost silent hiss of pain.

“Well, I mean, do you want a crappy cane that’s gonna break?”

“Well, no,” Patton admitted, “But that’s not the point, I’m not actually gonna get one,” he protested.

She turned to look at him, her hands falling limp against the computer.

“Uh, what? You literally just said you needed one,” she remarked.

“I mean yeah- but I’m not going to get one!”

“Why- _ACK_\- Why the hell not?”

And Patton faltered. Because why was he not willing to get one? It was something he needed, yet he hadn’t even considered actually getting one.

“I-” he faltered. Blythe’s gaze softened and her head jerked to the side.

“Is this what you’re so upset about?” Blythe asked.

Patton’s eyes pricked with tears. Blythe’s head knocked back

“Hey,” Blythe said, tone softening, “What’s up?”

Patton shrugged and didn’t look up.

“I- I guess. It’s just embarrassing,” Patton admitted.

“What is? The reason for not wanting a cane, or actually needing- _ACK_\- a cane?”

“That- the latter,” Patton fumbled.

“Right,” Bylthe said with a nod. She closed the computer and stood. She set the computer back down on Patton’s desk, gave a full body shudder, and then moved over to where Patton was sitting. “Budge up,” she requested. He shifted and she sat next to him. Her head knocked back twice before she began to speak again.

“Look, Pat, take it from a person who has like the most- _ACK_ _ACK_\- embarrassing disability on the planet. If this is,” her hand came up to whack against her chest, “something you need, you gotta just go for it. Refusing to get a cane isn’t helping anything and- most importantly- hurting you.”

“But-” Patton protested feebly.

“No,” Blythe said firmly, “Look, I used to suppress my tics all the time. Tourette’s- _ACK_\- fucking sucks. Nobody knows what it is, and if the do they ask if it's the swearing,” she paused as her hand came up to thump her chest twice, “the swearing thing and then expect me to bust out cursing. It sucks. A lot. And so I would suppress my tics. But that didn’t help. Because the tics had to come out eventually. And if I repressed all of it, it would- _ACK_\- just get worse. And with some of the bad tics, I could hurt myself. You remember when I dislocated my shoulder, yeah?”

Patton nodded. It had been terrifying for him. He couldn’t imagine what it had been like for Blythe.

“It’s just- look I mean we’re not the same. But being disabled can be really damn embarrassing is my point. And honestly Pat, having or not,” her nose and mouth scrunched before relaxing, “having a cane isn’t going to change it. Me repressing or not repressing my tics didn’t- _ACK_\- change my- _ACK_\- own- _ACK ACK ACK_\- embarrassment. But the thing is, using a cane is going to help you in a lot of ways. And letting embarrassment stopping you using something you need? It’s just going to hurt you in the long run. And, well I personally wouldn’t do it. But it’s up to you. I’m not going to force you to get one if it makes you uncomfortable. And I’m here to support you no matter your decision, okay?”

Patton just stared at her for a minute, pondering her words.

“Okay,” he eventually said with a firm nod, “Let’s buy me a cane.”

They did a bit of research and ended up buying one that night. Simple black aluminum cane. Standard. Because while Patton would be getting one, no way would he be getting something flashy and eye-catching. He was embarrassed enough as is.

But he did it, and for now that would have to be good enough.

* * *

**FOUR**

Patton was well and thoroughly happy that Blythe had talked some sense into him about getting a cane. It took a bit of getting used to, but it immediately helped tremendously.

Suddenly, Patton was able to do things he just couldn’t do anymore. Standing became easier. His stamina increased, allowing him to walk further distances. He didn’t always feel like his balance would fail him and he would topple over.

Of course, a cane didn’t fix anything. His body still hurt. It would never stop hurting, with or without any sort of mobility aid. He still struggled to walk far distances or walk often. Stairs were still his worst enemy.

But the cane made all of the things Patton had trouble with just that much easier.

It was during this almost giddy lightheartedness that Patton got stopped.

“Uh hey,” a fellow student- Patton thought her name was Alina- said, capturing his attention.

“Yeah?” Patton asked, stopping to face her.

“Didn’t you- I didn’t think you had a cane,” she mentioned.

“I didn’t.”

“Well, why do you have one now?” she asked.

Patton gave her a look. They had literally never talked before except maybe once on a group project or something. And now she was asking about his cane.

“Because I need it?” Patton responded.

“But, you didn't,” she mentioned.

“And now I do,” Patton replied before walking away, leaving her puzzling after him.

Generally, Patton was a lot kinder and patient when people asked him about why he walked funny or why he struggled to remember something someone had just told him. But Patton was tired. Tired of being that nice disabled person who explained everything cheerfully and gleefully.

In the past week since had gotten his cane, he had gotten thousands of questions about it. And frankly, he was sick of it. Sick of being the perfect disabled person who explained everything and didn’t get mad at even the most offensive comments.

And then Patton had an idea. If people were going to ask his cane, might as well give them something to ask about.

Patton entered Blythe’s room, not bothering to knock as the door had been open. He made a beeline for her bed.

When he reached it, he let his body careen over, falling down onto the soft sheets with a _THUMP_.

Blythe sighed and turned to look at him.

“Why are you in my- _ahem_\- in my room?” she asked him.

Patton ignored her and picked up a book from her nightstand, rifling through the pages meaninglessly.

“Eileen,” she hissed, “Why are you in my room.”

“Need your help with something,” he said without any explanation, laughing inwardly as she just got more visually frustrating.

“Patton,” she groaned out once more. Her head jerked to the side and her eyes blinked rapidly.

He didn’t give her any form of acknowledgement. And then, she apparently had enough as she chucked the marker she was drawing with at him.

“Ow!” he complained as it hit his shoulder, “What was that for!”

“Why are you in my room!”

“Jeez no need to throw things at me! I wanted to know if you wanted to help paint my cane with me.”

“What?” she questioned. Her lashes fluttered quickly.

“Do you want to help me paint my cane?”

At the repetition of the sentence, her face lit up before jerking.

“Sure- _ahem_-”’ she agreed, “Uh, with what?”

Patton shrugged, and sat up from his position from where he was lying on his bed. He picked his cane up from where he had dropped it next to him and inspected it. He wasn’t quite sure why he was inspecting it, considering it wasn’t like it was going to tell him what to use.

“Nail polish could work,” Blythe commented.

“Yeah!” Patton agreed with a fierce nod.

A fierce nod that Blythe then copied, and then couldn’t stop copying, head shaking up and down. Patton leaned back, thinking about possible designs for the cane as they both waited the tic out.

“Fuck,” Blythe groaned, as her head finally stopped shaking. She lifted a hand to massage her neck tiredly.

“Sorry,” Patton said, feeling a little bit guilty. If he hadn’t nodded as fiercely in his excitement, maybe Blythe would have never would have gotten the tic.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said while standing, “Coroplaxia sucks, nothing you can do about it.” She ruffled his hair as she walked past.

“Hey,” Patton complained, attempting to flatten his hair back down. She just snickered.

“You- _ahem_\- coming,” she asked.

Patton nodded and joined her.

They went into the bathroom, both crouching down to root through the doors for the nail supplies. Patton used to do his nails a ton, but fell out of touch with the practice when he came out, feeling as if he couldn’t do it anymore. That it made him less valid as his identity as male. It had also been Blythe who had called him out of that and explained that painting his nails didn’t take away from his identity. He started painting his nails again after the talk.

The located the box of supplies and shuffled back to Blythe’s room.

She set out an old towel on the floor, under their mothers’ pleading to not get polish on the carpet.

They spread out the supplies and got to work.

“So, anything in particular that you want,” she asked him.

“Nah,” Patton said shaking his head, before rethinking it, “Actually uh. Let’s start with some flowers.”

“L-” she cut herself off, head shaking rapidly up and down, “Lit,” she finished once her head had relaxed.

Patton just snorted at the usage of the word before they both got to work.

Soon enough his cane was covered with tiny flowers. A couple other designs had made there way in. A small pride flag, a palosauras, a hedgehog, and small cat to name a few. It looked pretty decent for an amateur job in Patton’s opinion.

Eventually, they closed up all the bottles twice, Blythe fighting the compulsion to do it a third time once they had redone all of their first attempts at closing them. But they were closed. And Blythe knew that. So they put them away.

“So, why the designs- _ahem ahem_\- all of a sudden,” she asked after they had finished, “You were really opposed to it when we first looked canes up.”

Patton shrugged, moving to sit on her bed. While the cane did help tremendously, he still had chronic pain. Sitting was definitely preferable over standing.

“I guess it's just, a lot of people have been asking about my cane,” he admitted, “And so I thought, if they’re going to ask about it, might as well give them something to ask about,” he explained.

Blythe smiled and blinked rapidly, “I like it.”

Patton smiled back, “Thanks.”

“And look at- _ahem_\- at it,” she said, gesturing back to the aid that was still drying, “It-_ahem_\- It looks amazing!”

“Yeah,” Patton agreed, “Yeah, it does.”

They then both just sat in silence, staring at their artistic masterpiece. 

* * *

**FIVE**

“No. No way, not doing it.”

“C’mon Pat, it’s just a little cliff,” Dani goaded from far below.

“You and me have a very different definition of ‘a little cliff,’” he objected.

“Patton! Are you coming!” shouted a distant voice from all the way done at the bottom, “It’s really fun,” Liam encouraged, splashing the water a bit as he continued to float.

And look- Patton was a family person, alright?

When his family had decided to take a trip all the way to the beach, he had been enthusiastic about it. There had been a quick moment when he had felt a bit uncomfortable because swimming meant tight clothing which meant a higher chance of being misgendered. But family fun beat out the negative thoughts. And sure, he felt a bit dysphoric, but they had gotten there and he had been having fun.

And then Patton’s younger sister, Dani, had said she had an idea and to follow her. And so they did. All four siblings and followed her over rocks and up to a steep overlook.

When Dani had reached the top she turned to smile at them, said the word, “Watch,” and then ran off the cliff.

Patton may of screamed. Just a little.

The three of them went surging forward only to find the child bopping back up from under the waves and shouting gleefully.

Blythe had yelled at her for a minute about being irresponsible and almost dying, but she interrupted herself laughing and just shaking her head at her younger sister. Liam- who was even younger than Dani- had taken this as a positive sign as well as permission and dove off the cliff as well.

Patton didn’t yelp this time, but he did reach his hand forward as if he would suddenly grasp him.

Liam went down, crashing into the water and again appeared a moment later. He started laughing hysterically and almost drowned when he couldn’t stop.

Now, both Dani and Liam were looking up unexpectedly at Patton and Blythe. Blythe took a slow step back and the younger kids had latched onto Patton as their newest victim.

“Come on Ei- Pat, it's so so fun,” Dani encouraged.

“Yeah!” Liam agreed, “It only gives you a little bit of a wedgie!”

With that comment Dani stared at her brother and tackled him under the waves, berating him.

Patton thought he heard her say something about trying not scaring him, but they were too far away and not loud enough to be heard clearly. Because, as Patton reminded himself for the billionth time, they were on a giant fucking cliff that his siblings were now expecting him to jump off into the water below. Yeah, not happening.

“You know you don’t have to,” Blythe mentioned from behind him. She twisted her neck quickly and up to the side.

“Says the one who stepped back when the little monsters were searching for their next victim,” Patton grumbled back.

“Says the one, says the one, says the one,” Blythe repeated a few times before speaking up with her own words once the tic had passed, “You still don’t have to. If- _ah ACK_\- If they try and make you, I’ll tell them off or- _fuck_\- distract them or something,” she told him.

Patton gave her a calculating look.

“They won’t be mad?” he eventually asked, “I don’t want to ruin their fun.”

Blythe smiled at him, “You’re not going- _ah_\- to ruin their . And even- _ah_\- if it did, that's on them. You're setting a boundary. It’s up to them to- _ah_\- to listen.”

Patton thought about it and peeked over the edge once more. He stared straight down at the large drop and gulped. Far below, his two younger siblings were still fighting in a mini water war.

“Yeah, I think I’m just going to go back down,” he decided.

“Okay,” Blythe said as she gave him a smile. Patton returned it. Blythe’s head knocked back before jerking to the side.

Patton looked back at the trail down, specifically at how steep it was and how many rocks littered it. Getting up had been hard enough, but getting down? It looked even harder. And he hadn’t brought his cane to the beach.

“Hey, Blythe, mind helping me down the trail?” he asked, just as both of their names began to be screamed from below by the tiny terrors they called their little siblings.

“Hold that- _ah_\- thought,” Blythe told him, before racing to the edge of the cliff.

Patton’s hurt thumped with fear when she just stopped a few feet away. A few pebbles near her feet went scattering forward and off the edge to the depths below.

“I’ll be right- _ah_\- back munchkins, Pat doesn’t wanna jump!”

Their squabbling protests immediately started up and Patton’s heart sank. Maybe he would jump? If they really wanted him to? I mean, it was just a cliff, right? It couldn't be that bad.

His body shook a bit at even the thought.

But if his siblings really, really wanted him too?

“Hey, he’s not comfortable doing it, okay?” Blythe called back, “And were- _ah ACK_\- going to respect that, okay?”

This time, positive affirmations came back from the two far below them.

Blythe turned back to him.

“Okay, let’s figure this out,” she encouraged.

Together, they picked their way slowly down the cliff.

“Are you excited to be leaving soon?” Patton asked.

It was another reason he was so excited to be here at the beach with his family. Now that Patton was going into his junior year of high school, Blythe would be going off to California to college. On the other side of the country. Patton’s heart ached when he thought about it.

“No,” Blythe admitted.

Said admittance caused Patton to jerk back up and look at her, his apart surprise showing across his face.

“Oh, don’t give me that,” she laughed, “I’m excited-” she cut herself off as her hand came up to thump at her chest twice, “I’m excited to get there. And I’m excited for California and- _fuck_\- and college, but no, I’m not excited to- _ah_\- leave. It’s going- _ah_\- to be the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

Patton nodded a bit, mulling the idea over in his head. They stepped around the last few rocks and back onto the sandy shores of the beach. From there they started over to where their moms were sitting in chairs under an umbrella.

“I’m really going to miss you,” he admitted after a moment

She turned her deep brown gaze to meet his own.

“I’m going to miss you too,” she agreed, “but, it’s not over yet. And just because we’re not jumping off the cliff, doesn’t mean- _ah ACK ACK_\- your getting out of beach activities. It’s time for sand castle building.”

She plopped down a few yards away from where they set up camp, just closer to the waves, and starting digging in the sand.

Patton gave her a smile and fell down on the sand to join her.

Eventually their younger siblings seem to get bored of repeatedly climbing up to the giant rock and jumping off it into the water, and crawled over to join them. The four siblings set to building a grand sand castle.

Liam insisted that they decorate it with bits of seashells and seaweed, while Dani demanded a moat. They had worked on it for a while before their moms give them a thirty minute warning to packing up.

At that point, Dani and Liam instantly ditched the water to spend a little bit more time in the waves. Blythe and Patton both decided to join them.

The back and forth of the waves was a pleasant feeling, Patton decided, as he sat in the waves laughing at chatting with his family. The water was cool against his deep oak skin, and there was no pain from standing like on land. Him and his siblings splashed each other and cheered when the cheap shots hit. It was a perfect little moment. And then Patton’s eye caught sight of the cliff again.

And from here it didn’t really look that tall. And there was a bit of longing as he looked at it. He thought about it, and ultimately realized he would regret it if he didn’t.

“I think I want to jump off the cliff,” he decided.

Liam and Dani were immediately excited and start cheering, scaring off a nearby bird. Blythe on the other hand, just gave him a look.

“Are you sure,” she asked, “You don’t own- _ah_\- anyone anything.” Her eyes blinked rapidly.

“I know,” Patton promised, “I want to.”

So they swam back to shore, clamored up the rocks, and made their way to the cliffs edge.

Patton looked down and over, and the familiar feeling of fear settled over him. He gulped, took a deep breath, and then let it out before racing forward.

For a millisecond he felt nothing. And then, the air was rushing up above him growing louder and louder. He could only thing, ‘great I'm going to die,’ before his body hit the water. He sunk down a few feet, inspecting the green blue hazy world around him before propelling himself upward. His head broke the surface and he let out a gasp as water streamed down his hair and face. From above he could hear a cheering.

He looked up and gave a thumbs up, squinting in the bright sunlight. A second later and a smaller body was jumping off, and then a third, and then a fourth.

They landed in the same order, each of his siblings heads breaking the surface and swimming over.

“That was so much fun,” Dani blurted out when she reached him.

“How’d you like it?” Liam asked from his side.

Patton could only laugh and nod, the adrenaline still coursing through his body.

“It was fun,” he agreed, looking back up at the large cliff with a smile, “It was fun.”

A few minutes later and they were packing up, towels wrapped tight around shivering bodies. The drive home was long, and all of them were tired. At one point they stopped and got ice cream. After the sticky cool treats had disappeared, Patton nodded off onto the car door’s window, happy and content, a smile stretched across his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **In Depth TW: Ableism** (People express ableist ideas to Patton and his sister's disabilities. Patton also experiences internalized ableism), **Memory Issues** (Patton has memory issues due to contracting meningitis as a young child), **Bullying** (Kids bully Patton and another student for speech impairments as well as other thing), **Severe Illness** (Patton contracted meningitis as a young child), **Suggestions of Death** (It is mentioned Patton almost died at a young age due to meningitis), **Tics** (Patton's sister has vocal and motor tics).
> 
> I would also like to point out that Patton's moms due support vaccines. Patton contracted meningitis at an extremely young age, so he had yet to be vaccinated. Patton's case of meningitis was also extreme. While meningitis is always a very dangerous infection, Patton got hit harder than most. His brain and nerves were fried as a child due to the fever, and much of that damage is irreversible, which is why we see him struggle with certain long term affects of it.
> 
> Thanks for reading, and I would love to hear what you thought. Part two should be up soon, about a week at most. Thanks! Remember to always be polite!
> 
> ~childoflightning
> 
> Find me on tumblr [here](https://thechildoflightning.tumblr.com/). You can ask me questions, stay updated, and see extra stuff to do with this series.


	2. Rough Approximation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> +3 "I love you"s

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **TW: Memory Issues, Self-Deprecation, Cults, PTSD, Misgendering, Dysphoria, Scars, Needles**  
In Depth TW in End Notes
> 
> **There is also an intimate shower scene when characters are naked. It is intimate but there is absolutely no sex and the only real mention of nakedness is a reference to the chest area**
> 
> Thanks to [fueled-by-angst-and-rootbeer (Max)](https://fueled-by-angst-and-rootbeer.tumblr.com/) for helping me work out Virgil's section.
> 
> My tumblr is [here](https://thechildoflightning.tumblr.com/). Feel free to send in asks, keep updated, and see extra stuff involved with this series.

**ONE**

It was nearing midnight and Patton was still sitting on the floor, leaning against the bed, desperately staring at his book, hoping that somehow his staring would allow him to just absorb the knowledge. No luck.

Okay. His eyes refocused, reading over the definition again. Tend-and-befriend theory. Stressors push people together into social groups to decrease vulnerability. Hypothesized to be a typical response in females.

Right. Now look away and remember what the page said.

Tend-and- and what? What was it again? Befriend right. Tend-and-befriend theory. Uh, stress? Stress move people? Stress changes people? Stress affects people? Women? Women, right? There was something about women? And this was. What was this again? What was the theory. Stress? Stress-and something about friends?

Patton’s mind stumbled over the term. Remembering one part just in time to lose the rest.

He huffed and looked back at the paper.

Tend-and-Befriend. Not stress. It has to do with stressors.

Again.

Tend-and-befriend theory. Has to do with stressors. Uh, stressors causes people- in theory women- to form groups. But why? Because of stress? Stress pushes people together. Wait what that wasn’t right.

And just like that the definition was lost to Patton. And so he looked back down at the textbook.

Stressors not stress. Stressors not stress. _Stressorsnotstress_. Stress not stressors. No! That was wrong again.

And that was the tipping point for Patton. He couldn’t even fucking repeat three words to himself.

He slammed his textbook shut, causing a _BANG_ to ring out in the quiet room. He pushed it away from him and across. He stood shakily with a hand on his bed. He really should sleep. It had been a bad pain day and he really shouldn’t be pushing it.

He pushed the thought- one that he could actually remember apparently- away and stalked across the room sighing deeply in his frustration.

“Patton?” Logan questioned softly.

The noise startled Patton, causing him to jump slightly. He had completely forgotten that his boyfriend was still awake as well.

“Are you okay?” Logan asked.

“I’m frustrated,” Patton admitted as he scrubbed his dreads back with a weary hand. He was kind of getting bored of his hair now that he thought about it. Might change it up soon.

Logan tilted his head slightly and gestured for him to continue.

“I have a psych test coming up,” Patton explained, “And I’ve been reading the same fucking chapters and terms and words over and over again. And I can’t get the stupid things down. My stupid brain just won’t,” Patton gestured for the right word, “It just won’t do it’s _fucking job_ and memorize the stupid things.”

Logan set his book down and turned towards Patton, watching the other stalk across the cramped room angrily.

“Do you want help?” the younger boy offered.

Patton shook his head.

“It’s not something that can be helped,” Patton explained, “My brain is just fried- ha _literally_\- and won’t work right.”

“But you have accommodations for your memory issues,” Logan pointed out.

“Well, yeah, I mean I get a word box on the test. But I still have to know the definitions so I have to memorize them anyway,” Patton said as he gestured widely.

“No you don’t.”

Patton stopped his pacing and gesturing to turn to Logan.

“Uh, yeah, I do.”

Logan just shook his head.

“Look,” Logan started, “If you’re given the words, you don’t have to actually _know_ the words. You just have to know which words are the _wrong_ words.”

Patton just stared.

“They’re psych terms, right? So I would assume that some of the definitions wouldn’t make sense unless put to the right word. So if you just memorize the definition, you can probably figure out just by looking at the terms which terms goes with which definition. Now some might be harder, but we can probably work out tricks with those so you don’t have to memorize as much.”

Patton just continued to stare.

Logan shriveled a bit under the glare.

“I mean, I don’t know your brain,” Logan admitted, “So I could be totally wrong. But-”

“No,” Patton said shaking his head, “Logan you are completely right. How have I never thought of that before?”

Logan shrugged.

“I’m gonna do that,” Patton decided, “And uh, if your still willing to help, maybe you can help me memorize them too?”

Logan grinned and nodded.

The next two weeks were filled with serious cramming.

“Give me a definition for relaxation response, hozho, comorbidity or tend-and-befriend theory?” Logan would request.

Patton would take a minute to think, running through his slowly growing list of definitions. He’d find one that fit and then-

“What were the terms again?” he’d ask.

“Relaxation response, hozho, comorbidity, or tend-and-befriend.”

“Tend-and-befriend,” Patton would say, “Stress, uh, stressors push people together into- into- into. I don’t know, something. And it’s hypothesized to be common and females to decrease- decrease something.”

And then Logan would tell him if he got it right and repeat the term.

“That’s right. Tend-and-befriend theory.”

“Okay, what was I missing?”

“Tend-and-befriend theory,” another repeat because Patton needed it, “Stressors push people together into social groups to decrease vulnerability. Hypothesized to be common in women. What’s tend-and-befriend?”

And Patton would repeat it again, correcting his mistakes.

“Tend-and-befriend theory. Stressors push people together into- uh into… social groups! And they do that to decrease… vulnerability. Hypothesized to be common in- uh, women.”

“That’s right. Tend-and-befriend.”

And they would do it again and again and again. Walking together to classes, in the dorm, at meals. The more frequent, the better. And finally, finally, Patton learned the terms.

And before he knew it, he was walking back to his dorm after the test. He swiped his keycard and pushed open the door, grinning widely.

Logan was already inside, and looked up when Patton entered.

He spoke up just as Patton closed the door.

“I'm proud of you.”

“Hmm?” Patton said, as he turned back to face Logan.

“With the test. You could’ve just give up. But you didn’t. And you worked really hard to get it down. And also realistically accepted the parts you couldn’t do and advocated for yourself. That’s not easy.”

And Patton’s heart flooded with warmth.

“I don’t even know how I did yet,” he said.

Logan shrugged, “Doesn’t matter.”

God, Patton loved him. Wait what?

“Thanks,” Patton squeaked out.

Logan gave him an odd look.

Patton shook himself and worked up the courage to say the words.

“I love you Logan,” Patton professed.

Logan’s eyes went wide and he stared at Patton in a reasonable amount of surprise.

“I love you too,” he admitted.

And they embraced.

* * *

**TWO**

Virgil looked up and over his book at Patton’s attempts to tie his hammock to a tree. The clip piece had broken off the other day, which meant that Patton was now attempting to tie the rope in a knot instead of just using the now non-existent clip.

“That’s not going to stay,” he remarked, as he watched Patton struggle with the knot.

“What?” Patton asked, turning to face him, rope still in hand.

Virgil closed his book and stood, walking over to join him.

“You’re tying a slip knot,” Virgil explained, “It’ll just come loose and fall down. Maybe try a taut line or a bowline hitch?”

Patton just stared.

“If you don’t remember how to tie them I can do it,” Virgil said casually, holding his hand out for the rope.

Patton stared some more.

“_Remember how?_ Virgil what gave you the idea that I would even know how to tie that whatever thing knot in the _first_ place?” Patton asked.

It was Virgil’s turn to stare. He cocked his head slightly and peered at his boyfriend with wide eyes.

“Do you not know how to tie knots?” Virgil asked, seemingly genuinely confused.

“Uh, no?” Patton offered, “I mean it’s not like I was in the Boy Scouts or something. I didn’t come out until I was fourteen and they weren’t super accepting of trans teens in the first place?”

“Boy Scouts?” Virgil echoed, “Wait, do you mean that most people _don’t know how to tie knots_?”

“I can tie a knot. And I think I know what a square knot it is, but no, most people don’t know how to tie hitch thingies. Why would they?”

“I- I don’t know,” Virgil admitted, “I guess- Well I mean I learned how and I never thought that- I mean my dad knows how to tie knots too and I just thought most people knew how.”

It was at this moment his breathing hitched and Trixie pressed against his side. An action that Patton normally wouldn’t have missed. But, Patton was blissfully unaware to Virgil’s inner dilemma as he continued to try and set up the hammock. So Patton just continued talking.

“Yeah no. Well I don’t think so at least, I don’t really know anyone besides like maybe Boy Scouts who knew how to tie knots. Or like rock-climbers. They definitely didn’t teach us in Girl Scouts. Wait- where did _you_ learn knot tying?” Patton asked.

And Virgil sort of stumbled over his answer, letting out a small squeaking noise, because wasn’t it sort of obvious? But Patton just sort of cocked his head to the side.

“Uh, I- when I was first uh, brought to the cult, I learned to tie knots pretty quick.”

Patton dropped the hammock and turned to him. His face had gone slack and his were wide open.

“Oh, Virgil-” he muttered.

“No,” Virgil said, with a shake of his head, “It’s really okay. I mean yeah, it does have some bad memories attached to it- but surprisingly it doesn’t-” he shrugged, “I dunno, knot tying is a good skill to have, I just didn’t realize most people didn’t know how.”

But Patton didn’t relax at the words, instead tears started to fill his eyes and his body hunched to make him look smaller.

“V, I’m so so sorry for bringing it up, I didn’t realize, I-”

“Pat, it’s _fine_. Plus you didn’t even bring it up, I did,” Virgil replied with a slight shake of his head as if shaking off the memories, “Now let’s figure out this hammock. Want me to do it?”

But Patton didn’t seem to hear him and just continued babbling.

“Virgil, I can’t imagine. And I didn’t mean to bring that up, and I’m just really sorry. I'm so sorry you had to deal with that and go through that.”

“Patton!” Virgil cut in, this time louder, finally catching the other boys attention, “Stop. I told you that it was fine.”

“Yeah but-”

“No,” Virgil said voice firm, “No buts. I told you it was okay, and I’m serious. You’re making this into a bigger deal than it is and it needs to be, and it’s not helping, okay?”

“But-” Patton protested a bit more, “It’s not really okay, I mean you were abused and-”

“I appreciate you trying to help,” Virgil cut through, “But there’s times when I need support and times when I don’t. And this is not one of those times. Instead you’re offering me guilt and pity. And I don’t need that. Okay?”

Patton sort of cocked his head. Because yes, he could hear what Virgil was saying, but-

“I don’t really get it,” Patton mumbled, “Like- I’m trying to help?”

And he really was. Patton didn’t have any ill intention what-so-ever. But even with his good intentions, it still wasn’t what Virgil needed.

“I know you’re trying to help,” Virgil confirmed, “But it’s like…” Virgil trailed off and looked up towards the sky as if it held the answers. “It’s like pronouns,” he eventually settled on.

Patton leaned in a bit.

“It’s- When someone misgenders you and catches themself, there's sort of two ways of doing it. There’s the, ‘oh, I’m sorry, he,’ and continuing on. But there’s also the whole ‘fuck I know that’s not right, I meant he. I’m trying I swear, I’m sorry I keep messing up. It’s just really hard. I know it’s he,’ and they go on and on and on. And that’s not helpful. You just need to correct it and move on. Lingering in it doesn’t help. This is the same.

“Lingering in my trauma doesn’t help. Especially when I’ve moved past it. At worse, you're just creating space for me to get stuck in it even more. And at best, even if I don’t get restuck in my trauma, you’re still providing room for pity. And guilting yourself. And pity sucks. It doesn’t do anything. And the guilt is the same. Because it now means that I have to reach out and comfort you instead. When really, we all just need to move on. Shit happens. Let it.”

And it was in this moment Patton saw Virgil for the first time.

Because yes, they had been friends for a little while now. And more recently Patton learned more and more about Virgil’s trauma. And Patton would never not be friends with Virgil because of it.

But well, Patton had a heart of gold. A heart that sometimes leaned on the side of pity. Pity that Patton was playing on right now.

But it wasn’t even really about Patton was it? This was about Virgil. Because how many times had they been in this same scenario? How many times had Patton overdone things, and instead of calling him out, Virgil had just brushed it off with “it’s okay” and “I’m fine.”

Something inside of Patton changed in that moment and his heart beat a bit louder. It wasn’t quite pride or appreciation though. It was love. Patton was falling in love. Pure, unaltered love. And he may not have felt it in a romantic sense first, but that didn’t make it any less true or any less strong.

But it was also probably not the time to express said love. After all, they had a situation to clarify.

“Okay,” Patton said instead, “Okay. I hear you Virgil. I’m sorry for overreacting. Please let me know if and when I can do better. Because you’re right, I want to support you. But I want to support you correctly and in the way you need, not in the way I might think you need.”

And it wasn’t an “I love you.”

But wasn’t it enough of a love confession as is?

* * *

**THREE**

Patton rapped loudly on the door, hoping to be heard over the running water.

“Can I come in?” he asked as he leaned against the door.

“Yeah!” a distant voice replied.

Patton hummed and opened the door, entering the bathroom. Roman himself was already there, showering. Patton took a minute to appreciate the sight of his boyfriend before going to the cupboards under the sink. He crouched down carefully, left leg out straight, instead of bent- it had been bugging him more today- and rustled through the cabinet. He pulled out the box containing the needed supplies and pulled it out, setting it on the counter before starting the slow process of standing back up.

When he had gotten up, he sat on the toilet seat and pulled out the clear vial of testosterone, needles, and disinfectant. He cleaned the spot on his stomach- right side this week- before taking one needle to remove the testosterone before transferring it to the next. Check it and then, one, two, three, go. He didn’t miss the fact that Roman looked away. Roman hated needles with a burning passion. It was always a terrible act to try and get him in to receive his flu shot. As Patton had these thoughts, the needle sunk in and he pressed down before removing it, then cleaned the injection sight once again.

It wasn’t until he started putting it all away when Patton was hit with a sudden feeling of Not Right. The injection sight seemed to burn, even though Patton knew it never did. He called to him, taunting him. (You need me to be a real man). Patton gulped.

His body started to feel a bit too tight. And it had been years since he started T. But now he could only notice how his hips seemed too wide and his waist too thin. And sure, he had gotten his breasts removed, but didn’t they still look not right? Were they maybe growing back? They were just a bit too big. And his feet were so small and he still couldn’t grow facial hair, and his voice was soft, and he still cried easily. And yep, there were the tears now.

Patton felt his eyes misting up, and resisted the urge to wipe away nonexistent tears. God why was his body so wrong? So not- not him? Not him enough? Not male enough?

“Pat?” Roman said gently, cutting into the intrusive thoughts, “Is- Are you okay?”

Patton took a heavy breath and didn’t turn to look over at his boyfriend, instead just offering a shrug.

“Is something wrong?”

Patton paused. God yes everything was wrong- his body was wrong and it was all just so damn wrong and-

Patton shrugged again.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Roman offered.

And Patton didn’t do anything this time.

He should talk about it, he knew he should, Roman didn't deserve this awful silent treatment and Patton was just not being good enough. But what if Roman- what if Roman agreed? Because Roman was gay right? And he wanted to be with a real man, right? And Patton, Patton wasn’t that. He was just walking around wearing a man’s skin. And god not even that. More like a Halloween costume that didn’t even fit him right.

Roman’s soft sigh made it through the steady noise of the shower spray.

“Wanna join me?” he finally offered.

And for some reason that prompted Patton into action. He nodded and got up and set to stripping automatically. Because for some reason that sounded really nice. Even if it meant seeing more of his body. The idea of a shower with one of his boyfriends, just being close to his boyfriend, being intimate in that way. God did that sound nice.

When his clothes had all made their way off his body, Patton carefully stepped under the stream.

Roman hummed softly as he entered.

“Can I touch you?” Roman asked.

Patton didn’t lift his eyes to meet his, but nodded in consent.

Roman hummed again and reached out, slowly encircling Patton in his arms before drawing him closer. He tenderly pressed his lips against the shorters forehead, before letting his hands fall down to caress his boyfriends body, before grabbing him and hoisting him up to hold him.

Patton let out a slight squeak but didn’t protest, just moved to adapt to his new position and grip against Roman’s body better.

“Wow Pat, you’re beautiful,” Roman muttered, hands tracing down his boyfriend’s body and hold him closer. Patton wrapped his legs slightly tighter around his boyfriend’s body, his nails digging in a bit too tight.

Roman’s words rang in his ears.

Patton thought that maybe he should be sad. Because he didn’t love his body. It felt wrong, like a skin that wasn’t quite his. A costume. But god did Roman seem to love it. And didn’t that bring just a little bit of euphoria?

A tear carefully slipped down his cheek, but he wasn’t even really sure if he was sad.

And even though water cascaded on their bodies and the tear had been tiny, Roman noticed it.

“Pat?” he asked, instantly concerned. Roman’s grip slackened a bit even as he made sure to not actually drop Patton. “Patton? Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” Patton promised, “No, you’re fine. Roman you’re perfect.”

And the comment caused Roman’s face to turn from instantly concerned to blushing as he offered a slight smile. Patton returned the grin.

Roman carried on, carefully peppering Patton with kisses. On his face, down his neck, his collarbone and shoulders, and then finally reaching Patton’s chest. A part of Patton’s body that he wasn’t sure he would ever stop being self conscious about.

But Roman just continued and slowly traced his lips across the two thin scars from Patton’s top surgery. Patton tried his hardest to not react in any way. Because he knew that Roman would stop immediately if he thought Patton was uncomfortable. Roman knew he got self conscious about these things.

But Patton wasn’t uncomfortable.

Roman’s lips continued to move across the canvas of his body.

No, Patton wasn’t uncomfortable at all.

In fact, Patton loved it. Or not exactly. Patton loved Roman. And yes that was it.

Patton loved Roman.

And he couldn’t think of a better time to confess it.

“Ro?” he cut in.

Roman stopped his kisses immediately and lifted his head to stare his deep brown orbs into Patton’s own.

“Hmm?”

“I love you,” Patton told him, voice unwavering, strong, and proud.

And Roman almost dropped him, causing them both to desperately try and catch their balance before they slipped in the shower.

When they had caught their balance, they both let out weak laughs.

“Subhanallah,” Roman praised, “Patton I love you. I love you too. So much.”

And Patton let out a weak laugh, a mixture of shock and excitement as Roman’s whole face lit up.

And Roman leaned in this time for a proper kiss which Patton reciprocated eagerly.

And if they wasted all of the hot water, well it had been more than worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **In Depth TW: Memory Issues **(Patton struggles with memory issues as a result of contracting meningitis as a child), **Self-Deprecation** (Patton is frustrated with himself and thinks/talks unkindly about himself), **Cults** (Virgil was abducted by a cult as a child),** PTSD **(Virgil has PTSD. His symptoms, triggers, and diagnosis are discussed),** Misgendering **(No actually misgendering, mentions of it and how it feels), **Dysphoria** (Patton struggles with gender dysphoria), **Scars **(Patton's scars from top surgery are discussed), **Needles** (Patton injects testosterone into his body. This procedure is completely safe)
> 
> Well that's it for this fic. Mostly just cute boyfriends being in love. And be on the look out for a oneshot series coming out soon. Please let me know what you think, and remember to always be polite!
> 
> ~childoflightning
> 
> My tumblr is [here](https://thechildoflightning.tumblr.com/). Feel free to send in asks, keep updated, and see extra stuff involved with this series.


End file.
